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Here I am

Here I am

Here I am
a center point in the vast mostly-imperceivable universe, 
the only thing I have ever experienced being.

Biologists tell me that all day long my body’s cells die. 
And most of my body is made of bacteria, which aren’t even me.
And half of my cells are from my mom and another half my dad.

Because I was born I caused changes. 
I breathed and moved the ways I wanted. 
I caused change. 
I had change caused in me. 
I let it happen, except for when I did not.

Where is the originality of life?
Is everything recreation?
What am I really? Am I what my physical body composes?
Is my physical body what I compose?

I became a scientist of life.
I held my breath to see what would happen. 
I breathed again when it stopped being fun. 
I observed the blood of my cut til it dried. 

Sometimes when my tears fell, the salty drop ended up in my mouth. 
I came to notice I exist in many small parts.
I am how I wanted to be, whether I wanted to or not. What power do I have? 

I take a deep breath
Breathing in – I am alive
Breathing out – I inter-am
All there is, or seems to be, is
Inside of me
And outside of me
Here I am.

Am I transforming into the next thing I will become?
How does it work to let go, really go? They say it so easily. 

When you let go the next door opens.
How to let go, when all I know is so true to me. Clinging on me like a second skin. This is me.

Here I am.

Scientist tells us that all cause has effect, everything is related to each other.
Why don’t I relate to you? Why it is so difficult to be with you? Who am I to be with you?

I take a deep breath
Breathing in – I am alive
Breathing out – I am here
With you
With all that is
In this vast now.

All directions are open to me
And I could exist in all of the directions.
Where do I step next?

Here I am.

The elements alive, within and without me,
Sometimes cycling predictably,
sometimes in hazardly chaos.
What do I go with?

What causes which effect?

I breathe.
I drop my attention from my mind into my feet, even though it doesn’t get there.

Here I am.

Here I am.


Poem Circle November 2022, Wheel of Life, Bridgehouse Bavorov


Nicole Hartley-Bradford, Gabriela Fagundes, Isabel Schrepel, Christine Dürschner, Leonhard Geupel, Martin Salanda

The responsible father

The responsible father

There is a little light in the dark –
a light that carries on through time and space

I feel the pain of separation and still
I am connected with you 
and I cry,
because you do what needs to be done.

The path ahead is full of terrors and dangers
and still, you do not take it as a burden
you take it as chance such that love can happen.

Honoring the past, by honoring your past, your upbringing,
full of destruction and pain, of suffering and blame.
and I cry,
because I am with you in your pain.

A star comes in ease.

The gentleness and curiosity of life is ahead,
I chose. 
I chose to move further into unknown territories,
selfish it might appear, and yet it is neccessary.

Living full out, whatever that means.
Seeing you failing forward, not knowing, falling, standing up again,
and I cry,
because I see my hero failing, my inner compass dying.

There is a little light in the dark,
a light that carries on through time and space.

As star I shine the dark. As path I walk the ground.
As pain I spark the unknown for the care, because what needs to be done is me.

Moving stone towards the hill as love falls on the earth.
I care and cry for the pain 
and blame what I wasted on the path.

There is little light in the dark.

With love and pain I recognize the magician in you,
when you work with wood,
see the warrior,
when you stay strong while we are crying.
You may not know about those things,
you do it, because it feels like the only thing you can do.

You are like me, blood of my blood,
you are my mirror,
feeling such a pain.

No words will do justice to what swells in my heart
I dare not speak lest I diminish the power of this 

I dare not name it lest I break the magic

Behind you I see shapes, shadows of ancestors behind me in the mirror, mine appear

Fed by what is arising inside me, this too this unnameable something
is drawn forth through each of them to the next like 
the water of small springs meeting each other and forming creeks, rivers and at last an ocean.

We are the result of the love and fear and hate
the mistakes and sucesses of thousands.

The glint of light in your eye reflects the whole sun star.

There is a little light in the dark,
a light that carries on through time and space.

When I´m with you I find the space and time 
I create the space and time
As the nature cavitate on the one egg, life,
I cavitate in my self the possibility to be part
Part of your dreams, parts of your shadow 
Part of your heart and part of your path 
I create the time and space to the love unfold 

When I let myself connect with you 

I continue to walk the path that you lay down for me


Poem Circle November 2022, Wheel of Life, Bridgehouse Bavorov


Leonhard Geupel, Christine Dürschner, Nicole Hartley-Bradford,  Gabriela Fagundes, Isabel Schrepel, Martin Salanda

Archetypal dance

Archetypal dance

Coming out of the deep earth
Coming out from the depths of my heart
Fearing about the magic and majesty
Urging for expressing the wild

Elements and magic
So deep and natural in me
So endless far away from me

What flows, flows.
What is stuck, sticks.

Something catches my attention: a stuck thing that might flow!
Something else: a flowing thing that might become still!

Dare I insert my will?

I pause, watch, listen, sense. Urges grow and swing and shift and surge and then…
I DARE.

I move as I am moved to move, from where I cannot be certain.
What will be the consequences?

I come close to the fire, something it´s pushing me
The warm and embrace become alive in my bodies 
An impulse grows in my bone, become one with this fire
Shall I do it? And if I lose want, I guess that I have?

I touch the fire, and it touches me
This little candle become bigger; the light irradiates all through the room 
May my moving be a gift, magnifying and amplifying the magic, the majesty.

What is the gift that my being brings when I´m dancing?
What happen when I allow myself to go to the deep earth?
When I decide to go deep, deep in my heart?
What if I´m going there and lose the illusion that I´m living so far?

The changes happen when the pain to stay is bigger than the pain to leave 
Dancing with my feeling I find the possibility
The possibility to grow
I take it by the hand
Let my purpose guide me
With all its fierceness,
All its wonders,
All the aliveness and excitement,
One step after the other,
Nonlinear, curvy, vulnerable, beautiful
A dance of magic and invisible forces
That flow through me
And ignite the fires inside of me
I am the spring, the summer, the fall, and the winter

My seed is sprouting, dancing into existence
My head is moving upwards to reach the sunlight
Getting nourished by the earth, the sunlight, wind, and rain

What will I give birth to? What seed is sprouting?
What will I become? Dancing myself into the mystical life.

Sprouts of blossoms carving the colors of the joy.
Sparks on the trees firing their energy to life, giving as sun to the end.
Endless magic of the life.


Poem Circle November 2022, Wheel of Life, Bridgehouse Bavorov


Isabel Schrepel, Leonhard Geupel, Christine Dürschner, Nicole Hartley-Bradford,  Gabriela Fagundes, Martin Salanda

Undefine definition

Undefine definition

Movement, leaves, wind, sand, dancing, 
The cold air from the north lay down on my skin  
I believe I am alive, is this a beginning? 
Or is it the end of what I decide to live? 

Life, what defines it?  
Heart beating? Breathing? Shaking? 

I look back from where I came from 
The sun settles in a warm, red orange line over the horizon 
The sadness let go what any longer belong to me  
I’ve decided to grieve and come here. 
let the life go into a wheel  

Death, what defines it? 
Stillness? Silence? Coldness? 

Preparing myself to learn how to fly by learning how to die 
The night falls, the birds go silent, cuddling together. 
I find my inner dark space, I am collecting my parts. 
Let go what not belong, this is a restart 

Rebirth, what defines it? 
Lifeforce? Curiosity? Growths? 

Listening to the wind, to the signs of life. 
I cut everything that imprisons me with this knife. 
Lifting my eyes to the next portal of my path 
I question it’s possible to let go  
Conflicts arising,  it’s seems that I have a last breath  

I live, I die, I am reborn, what defines me? 
Mind? Body? Spirit? Identity? 

What I create, what I leave behind? 
The change walks like a salesman from door to door. 
Offering herself as a gateway to something else. 
Will you buy her offerings? 
Will you step 
Into the unknown, into the big whole? 
What holds you back from doing that? 

Source, essence, nothing, 
finding the definitions 
vanish the vast array of possibilities  
kill the possible fractal futures. 

Existence, indefinable, existence.


Poem Circle November 2022, Wheel of Life, Bridgehouse Bavorov


Gabriela Fagundes, Isabel Schrepel, Nicole Hartley-Bradford, Christine Dürschner, Leonhard Geupel, Martin Salanda

Listening

Listening

A whisper through the autumn colored forest
Shivering the leaves, spiralling up and let them drop to their last resting point

Listen to you wholy forest, what is your message?
What do you want to tell me?
I am listening.

Balancing myself through the soft, leafy ground.
Breathing fresh mushroomed filled air. Moss is all around.
The creek is gurgling in the distance.

Holding my breath for a moment, then letting go. Staying in
the gaps. Breathing in and out. Pause. Listen. Stillness.

What is behind the stillness? 
What are you telling me, Mother Gaia?
I am listening.

Silence surrounds me. Wind whistling from the east. 
Silence moves me. I end the moon and add the sun. I create the earth.

I move, I write it down. Let it sink in, the waters of tears.
Bum, is the sound of leaves, waving the whole ground up to me.

The rise of the sun, shivers under my skin. I gaze at life, the spark of sun.
Let it be, the way it sings to me. It grooves the air through my hair.

And the moss touches my feet. 
Soft touch of a maid and beard of the wise old man,
The waves rising up from my feet till my head
Don`t know nothing and knowing all
The wisdom lies in me, 
With deep roots in the natural unknown.

Listen to you wholy forest, what is your message?
What do you want to tell me?
I am listening.

A waft of cool wind gives rise to goosebumps
That prickle me in a million places

The surface of my body more alive now
The scents and sounds. Light and shadow warm and dark 
Each is more distinct.

As an instrument of Gaia sensing Herself I am turning up.

Zings and blips uncensored till now appear
Thoughts begin to burst into mind

She is me, I AM She!

No big deal, yet simultaneously the most ecstatic clarity possible
Bursts and glares and fades with each next outbreath 
Back to the still mundane moment between.

One more leaf falls, its landing sounds reach my ear.
Another chance to listen to her, or listen to me.
What is this wisdom trying to communicate to me?
I am listening.

I put my feet on the ground 
Energetic roots grow in all directions
Immediately my body earned ears and eyes.
My sensations are all amplified 
The electricity runs along my veins and my blood
An unreasonable force take place and I listen to my breath
It’s not anymore a whispering, its loud and clear

This voice as fierce as a vulcano, and everything that it says
YOU ARE LOVE
Shiver rise up all over my bodies
Cracking me open as wide open as the space itself

I am listening.


Poem Circle November 2022, Wheel of Life, Bridgehouse Bavorov


Christine Dürschner, Nicole Hartley-Bradford,  Gabriela Fagundes, Isabel Schrepel, Leonhard Geupel, Martin Salanda